


Roadhouse Revisited

by RebaK1tten



Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Everybody Lives, Fix it fic!, Gen, comment fic fill, well except Adam he's still in hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-21
Updated: 2014-03-21
Packaged: 2018-01-16 10:56:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1344901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebaK1tten/pseuds/RebaK1tten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a prompt on LJ from Tigriswolf - "Supernatural/Teen Wolf (TV), Allison + Ellen&Jo, Fireflies"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They share stories of hunts and hunters and exchange tricks of the trade. When she’s working behind the bar, cleaning and stocking the fridge as she’s too young to serve alcohol, Allison looks at the pictures and mementos displayed on the wall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roadhouse Revisited

She’s getting used to living here. Initially, everything was so strange; a new group of people, and the land so flat and bare. It didn’t smell the same or feel comfortable, but of course, everything has been new and different.

She stayed in California for the first two months after the change and then her father flew out to Nebraska with her, arranging for her to stay with some hunters he’d met only once, but who have a good reputation.  Ellen Harvelle and her daughter Jo, who run what’s basically a rundown bar in the middle of No-where, Nebraska.  Paradise in the middle of the US for more hunters than Allison knew existed. It was so odd at first, having a whole new life away from everything she knew, but it should be safer, or so they hope.

Ellen and Jo treat her like they would a distant cousin who is staying with the family ( _pack, Allison’s mind says_ ) and earning her room and board.  Allison helps with cleaning up the bar and the house, and runs errands and tries to be useful.  She’s still in touch with her father and friends back home, but they’re moving on with their lives and feel more distant as she’s getting used to her new life, learning to say ‘pop’ instead of ‘soda’. 

Jo was initially a little reserved, but soon warmed up to Allison, and ends up treating her like a long lost sister.  She doesn’t wear cute, short summer dresses and heels; she’s almost always in jeans and a t-shirt with cowboy boots and slowly Allison finds herself adopting that as her new uniform, too.

They share stories of hunts and hunters and exchange tricks of the trade. When she’s working behind the bar, cleaning and stocking the fridge as she’s too young to serve alcohol, Allison looks at the pictures and mementos displayed on the wall.  Some are hunters she’s heard of, but most she hasn’t. Ellen tells her who they are and points out her favorite shot, the two of them, some younger men and an older man in a wheelchair.

“If Bobby Singer ever calls, you just give me the phone, don’t bother trying to talk to that old coot,” Ellen says and Jo smirks and tells Allison, “They kind of had a thing - don’t get in the middle, it’s too weird.”

Jo says that’s the day they stopped the apocalypse and Allison isn’t sure what to think or if she’s serious.  But Jo shows the scars across her stomach and says they’re from a hell hound, and Ellen laughs and says “Yeah, we all nearly died!” and they both seem to think it’s funny.  Allison rubs her side where Scott bit her to save her life; there are no scars to show from when she nearly died.

They watch her the first couple of full moons, and she can smell the guns they keep hidden at their sides loaded with the wolfs bane bullets her father gave them.  “We both know they won’t need them, but it’s a sign of good faith,” he explained to her. “And it can’t hurt if you need them against any stray omega wolves that pass through.” She doesn’t point out that she’s the stray omega wolf in the area.

Now they just ask if she’s okay and tell her where she might want to run during the moon. It’s scary and a little lonely, but she feels like she’s trusted and she’s learning to trust herself.  She comes in after a hard run and Ellen smiles and asks if she’d like a pop because she must be thirsty, and she hears the voice in her head again – “ _pack”_.

And when the bar closes early in the morning and the last stragglers are kicked out (“You want to ask her out?” Ellen asks a slightly drunk hunter, winking at her. “You leave Allison alone, honey, she’ll eat you alive.”) the three of them go outside and sit in rickety lawn chairs nursing a beer or the orange Nehi that Allison’s taken to drinking. 

Some mornings they watch the fireflies flit about and Allison realizes that she’s no longer scared of them; she’s no longer scared at all.  This isn’t what she expected from her life, and it may change, but for now it’s good and she’s happy with her adopted family at home.


End file.
